Chapter 8
Quinn was snared. He wished to confess all to his new wife, but was not at all certain that the truth would gain her support. Filling any gaps in Melissande’s knowledge might cast his own merit in doubt. “What did my father do to make you despise him so?”
“You must know.”
“I have my suspicions. Let us tell each other the truth this night, my lady, and for each day and night after this.”
Their gazes held for a moment and there was uncertainty in her fine eyes. How Quinn wished he could dispel it forever.
Then she took a breath, squaring her shoulders, her stance becoming regal. He already recognized that she stood thus when she felt obliged to do something she would rather not, and he admired her strength of will.
She was much stronger than his mother had been.
The realization was startling, but true.
“While my parents were alive, Jerome abused his vassals by taxing them too much, feeding them too little and working them too hard.” Melissande spoke without inflection, as if reciting an inventory. “He bedded every woman he could catch and when those women conceived, he cast them out to starve.”
“And you know this by experience or rumor?”
She flicked a glance at him but Quinn remained silent.
He would wager upon experience, given that look.
Melissande’s lips tightened before the words spilled from her lips.
“Jerome spotted a maid of mine on a visit to my father, a nobleman’s daughter lent to our service, and seized her.
We searched for her, but she was well-hidden, and he lied to my father’s man when asked if she was at Sayerne.
In truth, she had been abducted by your father, hidden at Sayerne, and cruelly used for his pleasure.
” She touched her fingers to her brow. “Perhaps your father would have said she was savored.”
Quinn winced.
“She returned two months later in rags and tears, with bruises upon her body and a child in her belly. Indeed, my mother said she scarce recognized her. She would not name the abuser, for she was afraid, but my parents gave her shelter and care.” Melissande swallowed.
“She had been my nursemaid when I was a child and was much loved here at Annossy.” She looked across the chamber.
“She was never the same. I remember her being a merry soul and the sound of her laughter, but there was none after her return.”
“What happened to her?” Quinn asked, thinking she might have been wed to a man in service to the estate.
Melissande caught her breath and shook her head as though she could not speak. Quinn did not know what to do to ease the hurt of her recollection, but wished that he did. He waited in silence, despising his father anew.
“She died in labor,” she admitted finally, and Quinn’s heart clenched.
“Your father never acknowledged the child or provided for it. He sent no regrets for her loss, either. The child sickened and died the next winter, despite all efforts. And that was the end of her tale.” She raised her gaze.
“Because she had the misfortune to be pretty and merry of heart and to have caught Jerome’s attention, she was injured and died too young. ”
“It was unjust.”
“You are not surprised.”
Quinn shook his head. “Tell me more,” he invited, knowing there had to be.
Melissande cleared her throat and spoke with greater vigor.
“When my parents died, your father began his campaign to forcibly join our two estates. When Tulley protested, Jerome became more subtle. He moved border markers. He stole the harvest and seed for sowing from our barns. He stole livestock, though it could not be proven beyond doubt, and he hunted in Annossy’s forests without my consent.
” She shook her head. “I thought my woes over at last when he died, but the attacks on Annossy still continue.”
“Though on a different border.”
She flicked a glance at him. “Aye, closer to the mountains. The ford near the mill seems to be where the brigands cross into Annossy.” She eyed him.
“But Jerome is dead. Annossy remains plagued. I know that if Yves has secretly returned, he would not do these deeds. He is honorable. If he was starving, he would come to Annossy’s gates and offer his service in exchange for food and shelter.
But now you have returned to claim your father’s land and legacy.
” She took a breath. “And I do not know precisely when you returned to Tulley.”
“My comrades told of our coming through the pass a fortnight before them.”
“Your comrades.”
Their gazes locked for a long moment. There was accusation in her eyes that Quinn longed to erase. It burned within him that she thought he was like his father.
It was irksome that she accepted that his brother Yves was not.
“I am different,” he said. “Give me the chance to show you.”
Her expression turned weary. “I have known you less than a day, Quinn de Sayerne. I have been commanded to wed you. I have been bedded by you. You have been granted the seal to my family holding and you stand this night within my chamber, invited by me.” She sighed.
“It is as if my days and nights of labor here, for the good of this place, never occurred. And now my sole merit will rest upon whether or not I bear you a son, within a year. I am irrelevant, as irrelevant as my history, my hopes and my dreams, and I fear that my womb might be too reluctant for Tulley’s satisfaction.
My parents were wed three years before my birth, and their match was merry.
Their lack of conception cannot be due to a lack of conviviality.
” She frowned and looked much less formidable than she had.
“Would you not be discontent in my place?”
“You are not irrelevant! You are my wife and the heiress of Annossy...”
“Do not pretend to be a fool, Quinn,” she said, interrupting him with a bitterness that surprised him. “Should I not bear you a son within a year, Tulley will support your desire to put me aside in favor of a more fertile wife.”
Quinn could make no sense of that. “But he insisted on seeing the linens.”
“And he kept them,” Melissande reminded him. “All the better that he could see them destroyed if there was cause to have this match annulled.”
Quinn stared at her in shock. He had never imagined such treachery.
Melissande shook her head. “Do not imagine that Tulley does not see to his own advantage above all else.” She plucked at the ends of her veil. “So, do as you must, this night and every other. Naught is left for me to decide any longer. I am at the whim of Dame Fortune, though I cannot like it.”
Quinn had never seen Melissande despondent and he did not care for the sight. She had battled him and defied him and matched wits with him. She had challenged him and she had met his passion with her own. He could not bear to see her so defeated.
Perhaps it was exhaustion.
Indeed, he felt sympathy for her for there was truth in her accusations. Much had changed for both of them in the past day, and the changes were to his advantage. He believed that they would both share in that good fortune, but his father’s legacy was that she did not.
He disliked the tale of her beloved nursemaid and wished it had surprised him. Did she expect him to strike her? Quinn could not imagine doing so, but he respected that his lady wife—who had infuriated him already—might have her doubts.
She thought his half-brother had merit. Could he convince her that he did, as well?
To change Melissande’s thinking, he had to challenge her expectations.
He had to surprise her.
“Shall I send Berthe for you?” he asked, tucking the seal back into the pouch at his belt.
Melissande glanced his way with obvious surprise.
The sound of laughter carried from the hall below and Quinn pretended to be enticed by it.
“I would rejoin my comrades and hear of their adventures since we parted, but I would not insult you with my absence.”
“What is this?”
“Choose,” Quinn said deliberately. “Choose, my lady, whether I stay with you in this moment or leave you alone. You say you have no decisions to make, so I will grant you one.”
“Just one,” she said.
“Just one, for the moment. But when you have none, one is a bounty.”
She smiled reluctantly, as if she could not stop herself. “It is indeed.”
“And Berthe?”
She held up two fingers and that smile gained power. “Another choice?”
“A veritable feast of opportunity,” Quinn said solemnly and her eyes sparkled.
“Aye, Berthe, if you please, sir.”
“A bath?”
Melissande laughed a little. “A plethora of decisions,” she said and Quinn chuckled, glad of a moment of accord. “Aye, a bath would be most welcome,” she said. “I am sorry, my lord husband. It is not like me to lose hope.”
He cleared his throat and lifted a brow, inviting her to use his name again.
“I am sorry, Quinn,” she said softly and he smiled.
“But you have lost much in this, a mere day, and I should be surprised if you did not notice the lack. Annossy is fine beyond all expectation. I would have you sleep well, my lady wife, for I shall have need of your counsel to see all administered well here.”
She considered him again. “I thought you simply said as much for Louis’ benefit.”
“I said as much because it is true. I did not even think of what our guests should eat or drink, never mind where they would sleep. I have much to learn from you, Melissande, and I would hope that you would see your way clear to granting instruction.”
Their gazes locked once more, the chamber seeming warmer than it had. “You try to beguile me,” she said quietly.
“If only that feat could be so easily done,” Quinn replied. He bowed, then turned to the door, only to find Melissande by his side, her hand upon his arm.